


Hallow Fate

by 48eyesand32teeth1sharptongue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2019 reuploads, Angst and Suffering, Asexual Sam Winchester, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Devil's Pond AU, Domestic Horror, Don't copy to another site, IPV, Jack is Sam's Son, Lucifer sometimes is Jess, M/M, Multi, Post S13 fallout, Post-Possession Fallout, Trans Sam Winchester, and Castiel's adopted son, bi sam winchester, not all the tags totally apply yet, semi-abandoned, slight end of S13 spoilers, slight s14 nods and spoilers, triangulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/48eyesand32teeth1sharptongue/pseuds/48eyesand32teeth1sharptongue
Summary: Trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Sam and Cas and Jack have to survive Lucifer to stall out the Apocalypse.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel/Lucifer (Supernatural), Castiel/Sam, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Sam, Sam/Lucifer/Cas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Nothing to No One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic and chapter title a song by Gin Wigmore.
> 
> AKA the vague Devil's Pond AU no one asked for. (Also despite being a terrible movie, that ending scene was a formative experience. I basically wanted to try vibing kinda like 10 Cloverfield Lane and Devil's Pond mixed with SPN.)
> 
> Yet another reupload from before 2020.

Cas is chained to the wall with angel cuffs, feet hanging over the edge of the bed.

Sam is pacing next to him, helping Jack make mac & cheese. Sam isn't tied down, nor is Jack- Lucifer already has enough power to bring them back, anyway, and Sam knows playing by the rules is the only thing that's going to spare Jack and Cas anything- so he's just as trapped.

The cabin itself is almost reminiscent of Bobby's, except smaller, and while it has a loft, there's far less space to spare and Sam finds himself tracing the grain of the wall absently. (There's a basement, too, but Sam pointedly tries not to let his frantic, circling storm-drain thoughts focus too closely on that.)

The door isn't unlocked, and the cabin is circled by a giant lake that spans at least 20 miles across. (They're probably close to Canada, far as Sam can tell, because the only lakes he knows spanning that much ground are the Great Lakes). There's no boat, only a few fishing rods if Lucifer decides not to get food and Sam and Jack need to eat on their own, but even if they swam to shore... They are in the middle of nowhere (and Jack is sick, so low on power he's basically human, and every now and then he's hacking up his guts except when Lucifer deigns to give him back some grace to stop his atoms from combusting on themselves. And he hasn't learned how to swim yet, so Sam knows he can't risk him getting hypothermia or drowning if something goes wrong). Whatever potential cell service they could've had is shorted out by whatever warding or whatever else Lucifer has done to keep this bubble of space under his control, at least 400 miles out because Cas can sense that much from the muted hum of power around them, and Sam's phone has been confiscated, anyway...

Fact is, they would just be dragged back. If they are going to try and make a break for it, they have to be prepared, have to incapacitate Lucifer somehow and have a stopgap to hold off the end of everything if things don't go their way. They need a plan, need leverage and resources and power they just don't have...

Dean is still unaccounted for, after the Bunker went up in flames. But there are small mercies. Sam is grateful for the knowledge he is alive, even if either way, Lucifer is using his continued survival as blackmail. And Dean might find something- anything- to break the stalemate. To figure this out, while Sam tries to keep the collateral damage to a minimum.

What throws them more for the loop is how Lucifer just swept through them like it was nothing. Once he'd stolen Jack's grace, there had been threats to end the world, false games where Sam or Jack wouldn't live (except Sam knows Lucifer, knows what he really wanted, and that was Jack killing him just so he could bring Sam back, again, like he always did, once it proved convenient, as some kind of twisted punishment for the both of them), except then Jack had tried to sacrifice himself and it all unraveled...

The script had flipped. And Lucifer had stopped him. Reconsidered. Flew them all to the bunker, dealt with Michael, injured Dean and nabbed Cas as he flew them somewhere else, and proposed different rules of engagement. 

No Apocalypse, he'd promised.

Only a counterargument: getting used to the idea of shared custody, since they seem so hellbent on stealing his son, and a sacrifice. If they want to be family and to hold on to each other so badly, Devil be damned, then they'd all have to be his, too.

Which is definitively worse, at least on a personal level, even if it means the world is spared, and they would pay the price for that.

(And Sam doesn't hold his breath, with the chance that Lucifer is lying- but there's very little they can do to challenge him outright like this, and immediate survival, for Jack and Cas and Dean, wins out, at least for now, particularly since Lucifer can end the world with snap of his fingers if he feels like it).

Sam has grown used to Lucifer's whims, and having to sacrifice himself even if he'd promised to never be his bitch again. There have always been yawning chasms that they had never quite had a chance to push, to challenge fully, because they've always had hairsbreadth escapes so that Sam didn't have to face the raw truth that that freedom he'd chosen for himself still had qualifiers, still had threats he might just find himself caving for.

He's not used to having Jack or Castiel in the equation- even if he knows Lucifer will use anything at his disposal to claim what he considers his.

He hadn't considered the history, either. When in the Cage, Lucifer had single-minded focus, and it had just been the two of them. Sam taking whatever Lucifer dished out, and trying to be at peace with his sacrifice even while the Devil said he chose this, so he couldn't complain.

Out of the Cage... There's millennia of non-interactions and history the angels share, and while Lucifer had been in the Cage for most of Castiel's tenure, there was still that distant... knowing, that celestial ageless symphony back before the earth as Sam knew it, a history that Sam had only known on backburner, thanks to sharing headspace while possessed, only exacerbated by the moments that Lucifer had settled under Castiel's own skin, taken and re-purposed from Jimmy's to be his own.

And as for Jack... Despite his disappointment, despite his rage, Lucifer is playing nice with him, at least for now. Jack is a child, and if there's anything Lucifer had promised himself, it was that he wasn't letting his son get out from under his thumb, or that he'd throw him out, like his Dad did. Sam knows that much from experience, even if he knows that doesn't bode well for Jack at all.

Which is why Sam has been trying to redirect Lucifer's attention back to him, to get it back to the dynamic where he took the brunt of things under that same sharp edged obsession and possessive want the Devil had kept for him, even after everything. It's not foolproof, and Sam is scared out of his mind and not looking forward to what that would bring...

Failure is worse. Failure is watching the amusement flicker on the corners of Lucifer's mouth, failure is how he musses Sam's hair with a worn, hungry long-suffering fondness that doesn't quite border both contentment and condescension, because Sam's trying to turn the tide and call the shots the only way he can and it's horribly, horribly transparent, what he's trying to do. Why he's drawing the attention from the Devil when on his own, he'd cower-flinch away and try to be small and unnoticed and run if he could, because that's what Sam always does, is run and run and run.

When he isn't running... That's when Lucifer knows Sam isn't quite fighting for himself, because everyone else is more worthy.

Sometimes, Lucifer indulges Sam. Gives him the knowing look, backs him into the bedroom they share with it's soundproof walls, and that's the end of whatever threats hung over Castiel's and Jack's heads instead of Sam's, because Sam's volunteering to be a glutton for punishment in lieu of worse things, in lieu of being a powerless witness who Lucifer doesn't quite blame at all (because deep down, Sam knows Lucifer maintains it's all Dean's and Castiel's fault, for giving Sam ideas, for daring to grant Sam the hope he'd belonged to anyone other than him, for ripping him from his grasp in Hell when Sam had promised himself forever).

But when Lucifer is angry, or just twisting the knife, or when he doesn't feel like taking the easy bait and low-hanging fruit to get what he wants from Sam...

He does what he wants. Keeps Sam at a distance, takes it out on Cas like he planned, (and not usually Jack, because when he tries, Sam intervenes only to get pushed aside, when it's bad, really bad, except Lucifer is trying to play nice and Cas and Sam have this joint, silent understanding that better them than their son, even if Lucifer only throws the ball in their court on his own terms...), with Sam trying to pick up the pieces and shield Jack from seeing the jealous, angelicÂ rage that Lucifer has reserved for Cas alone.

For all the times Cas defied him. For all the times Cas stole what was his. For all the ways Sam loved and trusted Cas just as Jack did, and for all the ways they have supposedly forsaken Lucifer and replaced him instead.


	2. Angry Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Sam/Lucifer/Cas setup that remains unfinished.
> 
> Chapter title a song by Lola Blanc.

Lucifer trails a hand down Sam's back, icy breath enough to make Sam crick his neck and shiver where it puffs against bare skin. Sam bucks and struggles and writhes, even as the grip on his wrist tightens.

"Come on, Sammy. Don't be like that. The less frigid you are, the easier I'll go on this one, how's that sound?" Lucifer takes a finger and scratches down Castiel's ribcage, just for good measure, to make the point stick.

Sam doesn't say anything. He tries to relax into Lucifer's arms, even though that's something he's never really been able to do, even with Lucifer's attempts to elicit otherwise, and doesn't keep his mouth hotwired shut when Lucifer turns him around and tests the seam of his lips to kiss him and probe deeper into his mouth. 

_You know, secretly, he liked it. When I reached and felt your soul. When I was going to touch you in all those snug little places, back when I was wearing him. I know you're holding out for your precious angel who never asks for anything you can't give, the one with so much restraint it took all his willpower to wrench back control from little ol' me... It's a miracle you two haven't collapsed from being so pent-up, but you have no idea how hard it was for little Cassie to fight me when I almost took you, right there, on that grimy floor, before I was going to fingerpaint with your guts. And I would say I don't know what you see in him, compared to me and all we shared. But I see the appeal, I do. You don't know what you need, and neither does he. Is that it? Always wanting what you can't have but too nice and polite and pathetic to reach out and take it?_

Sam does his best to ignore the whispers, and tries not to shudder as Lucifer maneuvers between his legs and guides them down. Thinks of small mercies, grateful that Jack is asleep, that he has no knowledge of this despite everything else he's had to witness.

"Let Sam go." Castiel growls, and the Enochian comes out stilted from where Lucifer had carved into his barely-fluttering grace. It's practically all they speak, alone, one more thing to keep Sam trapped in line, and one more thing Lucifer pollutes that singles Castiel out from what he left behind, however willingly.

Lucifer laughs, throaty and loud, and gives Sam a wider, toothy smile at the habitual, regimented flinch.

"Or you'll do what, exactly? See, this is what's so tempting about the two of you. There you are, all high and mighty, except you can't protect anyone. And here's precious Sammy, offering himself up like a lamb for slaughter, all to protect you. How's that feel, Castiel? You want his generous gesture to be in vain? Because I'm going to take him anyway. We all know that."

_Right, Sammy? You're all mine._

Sam doesn't dare breath at the expression looking down at him.

But then Lucifer lifts off him, his words hazy and indistinct as they float over Sam's too-taut, straining head.

"But hey, if that's an offer, little bro... Who am I to say no, after all the times you've proven yourself so utterly infuriating?"

Lucifer straightens, advances on Cas again, with Sam on autopilot. Every instinct screaming to hide, but every part of him trying to refocus that rapt, rapt attention and rage away from Cas.

He knows Lucifer, knows his mind, knows exactly what he's thinking of doing.

There hadn't been many secrets. Not after Lucifer had been inside Sam, or when his jealousy had long-festered inside Cas, or when Cas took the imprints of Hell and tried to smooth the damage Lucifer had done.

And Sam finds himself tugging at Lucifer's waistband, the only spare clothing between them.

 **Don't.** He can't quite stop the prayer, but knows the disobedience won't curry any favor, and rapidly corrects course as fast as he can muster. Sam can't watch Cas become subject to this, not like him. Not when he's seen the damage Hell already did to Cas by proxy. Sam has already weathered the storm. He can keep weathering it. It's fine. (And Jack needs someone who isn't haunted, who doesn't know this as intimately as Sam to the point where the fear sometimes feels like a yawning gulf between them...) It's not exactly a longshot- Lucifer liked participation, like appreciation, liked that singular focus on him provided Sam could prove that they were all that mattered...

"Don't bother with him." Sam rasps. "You can have me, I promise-"

"Sam, no-" Castiel protests.

Lucifer catches his hand, rubs his thumb along Sam's scarred palm, eyes gleaming a bit too brightly in the dim light.

_I know, baby. And you're doing so good. But Cassie here... Cassie needs to learn his place. So you just sit pretty and take a breather._

It's getting brighter now. The imprint of wings threaten to swamp Sam's vision, and catches Castiel's expression, solemn and determined and sees the celestial creature peering out. Then it's all too much, and he can taste Hell on his tongue again, so Sam flinches and hides his eyes despite himself when Lucifer gives the order.

When Lucifer's true hands clutch the sides of Castiel's head, and plunge a little deeper into his chest, and then the tendrils of true-form wings start to settle heavy over the air.

 _Don't want you burning your pretty little eyes out._ Lucifer preens, sliding a hand through the metaphysical, shadowy wings of the seraph he's half-choking out with the chains. _You might be able to see me in all my glory, but Castiel's true form could set you on fire. And we don't want that, now, do we? Cassie here would never forgive himself._


End file.
